


Learning Curve

by SouloftheRose



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Spuffy, btvs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouloftheRose/pseuds/SouloftheRose
Summary: After Smashed, Spike tries to teach Buffy a lesson about who's reeaaallly in charge. But what chance does a poor vamp have against a stubborn Slayer?
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

> My very first try at fanfiction, written around 2002 or so? Oh so porny, so very plotless...be kind in your reviews...ha.

No more games. No more waiting. He’d had enough of being pushed around, treated like a toy to be tossed in the dustbin. For fuck’s sake, hadn’t he proven himself to the girl?  
  
_Enough!_  
  
He stepped to her with new resolve, crushing her mouth brutally. He forced his tongue between her protesting glossy lips and then released her with a swift shove. She stumbled back gasping.  
  
“Spike...what…?” before she could say more, he was on her again. Roughly reaching into the neckline of her little black cotton dress, shredding it with an angry rip and pulling the remains violently from her shoulders.  
  
“You’re MINE. And I’ll bloody well have you.”  
  
His tone was dangerously low and deadly – it brooked no argument. But still she resisted, pushing her hands against his chest, trying ineffectually to ward him off.  
  
“Wait…no…”  
  
She squirmed panting in his grip, succeeding only in fanning his desire further.  
  
He never could hold himself back from her. And he'd tried everything: hate, bravado, whiskey, sabotage. He’d put on some stupid schemes to piss her off, create some distance. (And, hey – if he made some money along the way, so much the better.) He hated being the only one in pain, hell - the only one in LOVE. (Or at least the only one admitting to it.) But in the end, she beat him, outlasted him with her rage and her stubborn unwillingness to even try.  
  
_She has me on my knees - what can I do but worship her?_  
  
All of it flooded in to his kiss – the pain, the rage, the frustration – the sheer bloody agony of loving her. He held her fast to him reveling in her heat, hands rough in her hair. His mouth captured hers, dominating her. The tattered remnants of her dress floated idly to the floor, scattered black butterflies drifting around her feet. He felt the hot silk of her flesh against his own and shivered with delight. Just two more little impediments and…  
  
_What’s this then?_  
  
He held her at arms length for a moment, chuckling. His eyes raked her from head to toe lewdly. She felt almost violated, as if he’d licked her instead.  
  
“If you didn’t come here for this, Love, then what’s with the lacy bits of nothing, eh?”  
  
Buffy couldn’t find her voice, stumbling on words that wouldn’t come she tried feebly to cover the black lace bra and panty set she was wearing. Her pretty face pinked brightly with shame. How was he doing this? How was HE in control suddenly? This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go, she came here to have her way with him. She came here for escape and for release. For things she couldn’t quite name and didn’t dare to think about. It was safe territory; he never asked questions, never expected more than she wanted to give.  
  
_Not like **them**._  
  
He just made her feel – good, bad, pleasure, pain. Whatever she wanted, whatever she asked for. It was good to feel. And she was in control of it all ...Wasn’t she?  
  
Spike circled her hungrily as she trembled, fear and desire warring in her racing mind. He raised his hand and traced her shoulders with a cool finger, raising goose bumps. Then pulled the heavy ebony comb from her hair, allowing a luxury of gold to fall on her bare skin. Buffy tasted the blood on her lips from his ravenous kiss, and gingerly touched her fingers to her bruised mouth. He circled around front smirking, amused at the gesture.  
  
“There’s more where that came from, Pet. All the dirty little nasties you want and more.”  
  
“N-no.” her voice was drained of any conviction. “That’s not…”  
  
Spike lifted her easily and tossed her on to the sarcophagus they’d lately used as a makeshift bed. She landed with a thud, causing the ancient lid to slide open slightly. The wind knocked out of her she scrambled to get her bearings on the slick satin sheets, her high-heeled sandals catching in the folds. Spiked smiled mockingly, she was “the Slayer” - she could take it. ‘Sides this was nothing compared to what she’d done to him just a few weeks ago. The bites and scars and scratches had only just faded. He unfastened the buttons on his royal blue shirt, baring a well-muscled expanse of marble cream. Stalking her slowly he approached the bed. Buffy skittered away from him, clutching the sheets to her chest. He found her trapped animal act all the more alluring; it aroused the hunter in him.  
  
“Here kitty - kitty…”  
  
He planted a knee on the bed, watching Buffy’s face carefully. Why didn’t she run? Or give him a good wallop for that matter? Closing in he caught her scent…  
  
_Ah, Kitty likes to play._  
  
He smiled lasciviously, making a show of sniffing the air.  
  
“Something smells delicious…whatever could it be?”  
  
Buffy blushed harder, humiliated. She wrapped the sheet tighter around herself, trembling. Why didn’t she just leave…or…or beat him down? What was it about him that made her feel all aroused and guilty and helpless at the same time? And why, oh why did she keep coming back for more? It was starting to control her, to consume her life. She found herself thinking about him through out the day, and then dreaming of him at night. She’d woken up crying out in orgasm more than once, his name fresh on her lips. She would never admit it, but he had her in his thrall – worse than Dracula. Worse than Riley, worse than even Angel, though it made her sick to think it. Because Spike offered her things they never could. He gave her pleasure enough to kill her and pain enough to make her live again. _“All the dirty little nasties you want and more.”_ A pleasurable shiver ran through her at the memory.  
  
Spike was next to her now, soothing words tickling her ear.  
  
“There, there kitty. No need to fret. Daddy’s got you now.”  
  
He stroked her hair gently, then moved his hand smoothly to her back. Caressing, soothing his hands calmed her little by little until the tremors stopped. He reached up to take the sheet away, but Buffy held tight. Lightening quick he whipped it hard out of her grasp.  
  
“We’re playing _my_ way now.”  
  
Before she could utter a single word of protest he was devouring her in a soul - searing kiss. He lifted her easily in his arms and laid her next to him on the buttery satin, scarcely pausing with his greedy mouth. His hands roamed freely over her body, memorizing every line and curve. He was taking her in; every inch, every taste, every morsel. She felt like she was being swallowed whole, on the precipice of the Hellmouth about to fall forever. Unwillingly she felt herself surrender - whatever she might want, her body had other ideas. She was soaking wet, and her nipples ached for attention. However the game went, this was what she came here for…wasn’t it?  
  
His body covered hers as he moved above her. Buffy closed her eyes and concentrated on each separate sensation, willing herself to relax. She felt the smooth skin of his leather pants against her thighs, as he worked his leg in between her own. His chest was like stone against her hot flesh, welcomingly cool and hard. While his hands, God…his hands seemed to be everywhere at once.  
  
“Don’t close your eyes, Love…I want you to see me, see everything.”  
  
His mouth was enticingly close to her ear; voice a honey drip of promise. She felt his tongue snake along her throat to trace the delicacy of her collarbone. Goosebumps appeared on cue and she fiercely stifled her groan of pleasure.  
  
_SO not giving him the satisfaction._  
  
She cautiously opened one eye to see what he was up to and found him smirking at her, tongue caught flirtatiously between his teeth. She just hated it when he did that, it made him all arrogantly irresistible. She tried to look away casually, feigning disinterest. Whatever game he was playing, she was not going to let him win. EVER.  
  
_Never win. Never have me._  
  
She thought fiercely. It became a mantra in her mind as she steeled her resolve against him. He was taking off his shirt now, letting the silk fabric pool casually over her bare belly. Buffy clenched her jaw and willed herself into perfect stillness. Spike grinned with roguish delight.  
  
_Gonna be like that is she?_  
  
He almost laughed out loud. This was just one of those lucky nights when the stars aligned and all was right with the world. He was in charge this time. Just like he was the night they’d literally fucked the house down. He’d met her blow for blow, bite for bite. He may love her, but she needed him and tonight he knew it. Fuck, he could smell how much she needed him, and it made him deliriously hard. He was gonna show her just who’s in charge here. Use him, would she? Play with him like a bleeding cat – draw him in and then shred him with her claws when she was done. Someone was going to be taught her manners tonight. Gonna get shown who needed who in this little game.  
  
Buffy caught her breath in surprise as Spike drew the sinuous fabric over her skin. He slid his hand inside a silky fold to glide it over her stomach, then down her legs. Catching the widening of her green eyes as he stroked her inner thigh.  
  
_Ha, point one for me._  
  
He removed his hand and let the supple material dance lightly over her body, barely grazing her knees and calves. Then gently back up to tease her thighs ending with the lightest feather of a stroke over her little black panties.  
  
_Never have me, never, never…God…_  
  
Buffy’s brain was in knots while her body was on fire. And he’d barely touched her.  
  
_Just what kind of tramp am I anyway?_  
  
She’d made Riley wait more than a month to get her into bed. He’d had to prove himself to her, win her. But Spike…dammit, he just had to give her a couple of kisses and a quick feel and now she’s ‘Easy Annie’ out for a good time? What the hell was going on? She was disgusted with herself, or she would be if she wasn’t really, really distracted by Spike’s tongue…  
  
_Oh my God…_  
  
Spike.  
Was kissing.  
HER FEET  
  
He held one sleek foot up for examination, admiring the midnight black suede of her strappy little sandals.  
  
“Nice heels, Slayer. Dead sexy.”  
  
Then he planted his soft lips on her exposed arch, slowly licked the top of her little tan foot and proceeded to gently kiss each manicured toe. He moved up to her ankle and gave her a shiver with a soft, wet kiss there. Then traveled up her leg to the inside of her knee, crooking it just so towards his face for the optimum angle. When he slowly sucked that tender, rarely touched flesh Buffy nearly came in her panties. A quiet, humming little moan escaped her.  
  
_Got her._  
  
He moved on to her inner thigh, tracing the tendon with his long, feline tongue. Spike paused to suck and lick gently at the joint of her thigh and pelvis, the heat of her skin and her delicious, outrageous scent making his cock throb painfully. Buffy squirmed and bit her lower lip, willing herself not to grab his ears and plant his face where it would do the most good.  
  
_Do not think of the evil vampire between your legs._  
  
Spike smiled wickedly as he backtracked down to her other foot to start over.  
  
_Heh_  
  
She was beginning to think that she’d gone to Hell after all. No Heaven, no re-birth just straight to Hell, do not pass go. He was torturing her, ON PURPOSE! She just knew it. Buffy was starting to catch on to the game at hand though. He was going to make her beg, the bastard! She set her teeth. Let him try.  
  
_Never have me. Never win. Never have me. Never win…_  
  
Her mind set up a chant, and she held onto it for dear life.  
  
_Never…Mmhmm, never…Ah, dammit, never…_  
  
Her body was alive with sensation, every nerve singing with desire. Buffy was sweating with the effort of reigning it all in. She was the fucking Slayer, and she could do this goddammit! Spike’s tongue found it’s way back to the crux of her thigh and she strangled a scream.  
  
_Never beg you…never need you…never... **Never**!_  
  
But her body was pulsing with a single thought, and it wasn’t never.  
  
_need_  
  
It whispered in her veins  
  
_Need_  
  
It beat in time with her heart  
  
Spike watched her squirm with relish, smirking triumphantly.  
  
_It’s good to be the King._  
  
Her eyes were closed, brows knit with concentration. This was going to be delicious.  
He hovered over her saturated crotch, and breathed purposefully.  
  
_NEED_ , Body announced with conviction.  
  
With anticipatory glee, he lowered his mouth to her hot, sweet cunt and sucked, enjoying the rough texture of the lace against his tongue.  
  
**_NEED!_** Body shouted, loud enough for even Spike to hear.  
  
She bucked up to meet his mouth, quite against her will.  
  
_No, no, no…can’t…won’t…_  
  
He was filled with her, surrounded by her. The taste of her tangy, sweet quim, her smell like wild honey and her rich, animal heat… He was getting a contact high from her bloody pheromones. And it was getting harder and harder to control himself. His cock was getting rubbed raw against his sodding zipper, and his traitorous body had started up a chant of it’s own.  
  
_Want Girl Now!_  
  
_Shut up, you._  
  
Spike hoisted both of her legs over his shoulders and buried himself in her saturated pussy. He rubbed his whole face against her, sucking her roughly through the mesh of sheer lace and used his teeth to scrape a tingling path over her sex. She was sobbing against her closed mouth, jaw clenched, trembling with frustration.  
  
Damn but she looked incredible like this – flushed and panting with her hair a wild tumble around her angelic face. If it was possible his dick actually got harder. She might not say the words, but he KNEW. It was eloquent in every line of her body. He could make her come right now without even taking off her panties. He felt like a fucking god, so rarely did he have this kind of power over her. But he was damned if he was gonna stop now. She was going to SAY IT. Spike was gonna make the Slayer beg. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought.  
  
_Tell me, Slayer_  
  
He lapped at her through the lace, growling with pleasure. That growl nearly finished her off. Knowing that he loved it, loved to devour her, loved to make her come. She could tell by the way he reveled in every part of it. Nothing made her feel sexier or more desirable than a man who worshiped her pussy. The way Spike was worshiping it right now…  
  
_God, don’t think about it…only makes it harder._  
  
Harder. Like the raging granite erection she could just see peeking a solid half-inch out of the waist of his pants…she moaned despite herself. She could just imagine it sliding inside her right now, slamming against her womb, making her come and come and come…  
  
_Gah! No, bad brain!_  
  
But it was too late. Spike added fingers to her nipples and completed a deeply primal circuit.  
  
_NEEEEEED!_ Body screamed, and thrust itself to meet his mouth.  
  
“God, Fuck…SPIKE!”  
  
He growled into her shivering cunt. Loving the sound of his name like that, all her desire laid bare in her voice.  
  
_Girl’s gonna make me come in my pants if she does that again…_  
  
He knew she hadn’t hit her peak yet, but she was hovering on the edge ready to tumble over. He stopped licking and let his breath wash over her. Rolling her nipple idly between his thumb and forefinger he willed her to say it. Say the words he longed to hear…  
  
_TELL me, Slayer. Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me. Say it…_  
  
Buffy shook with pent up energy and raw desire. She could barely form a thought in her head, she was so far gone. What had he done to her? He nuzzled her electrified sex and reached for the other nipple.  
  
_OhGod_  
  
She was thisclose…why did he stop? What was he waiting for? She whimpered softly, having forgotten herself almost entirely. Nothing mattered but her hungry need now. Buffy thrust her hips towards his tantalizing mouth.  
  
“Something you want, Luv?”  
  
His voice was oh-so-casual. She bit her lower lip and whined appealingly. He chuckled, charmed by the display.  
  
“If there’s somethin’ you need, you have only to ask…”  
  
He allowed his voice to drop off seductively. But Buffy shook her head erratically.  
  
_No…not…gonna…_  
  
Spike twisted her nipple with purpose.  
  
“Mmm…aah…” she panted, writhing in ecstatic agony.  
  
“Tell me, Buffy…”  
  
It was half whisper, half command. He slowly ran his tongue up her soaking cleft, and she rewarded him with a breathless cry, making his cock twitch hungrily.  
  
“Tell Daddy …”  
  
She whimpered helplessly. He was breaking her, and God help her, she couldn’t stop him. Determined he slid his thumbs under the lacy edges of her little panties, stroking her slick lips.  
  
“Just tell me, and I’ll give you everything you want, Baby…”  
  
He spread her open gently under the lace …  
  
“Everything you need…”  
  
Exposing her hard little bud, he pressed his long, cat-tongue to her and just barely licked. Buffy threw her head back and howled, making his cock throb painfully.  
  
_Je-sus! Can’t take it much longer. Got to have her soon._  
  
“TELL ME!”  
  
It was a command she could not help but obey.  
  
“Need…”  
  
She faltered - unsteady, unsure.  
  
“What do you need, Baby?”  
  
It was almost a purr. She rose up on her elbows to look into his eyes, and saw the naked hunger there. He needed her to say it, needed her to need HIM. Somehow she found she could no longer deny him. Her green eyes were clear and her voice was strong, she found a strange power in surrendering to him.  
  
“Need _you_ , Spike.”  
  
That was all it took. All he had ever wanted to hear. With a roar he ripped the tiny lace scraps from her hips, and laid his mouth to her exposed sex, drinking her in like a man dying. He relished her every drop and worshipped her rightly, like the goddess she was. His mouth was firm on her aching flesh, tongue stroking her clit in a steady pulse. When he slid his fingers inside her she was devastated by a swift, cataclysmic orgasm.  
  
He rose licking the juices from his fingers, and tore open the fly on his pants, rupturing the zipper in his haste.  
  
“Fuck it, I’ll just steal another pair.”  
  
They grinned hungrily at each other. Spike shoved the leather down his hips - he could barely do more. He was dying to have her, to be within her. In an instant he was above her, in another he was inside.  
  
_So sweet, so tight, so bloody hot_  
  
She was a fire all around him; incredible pulsating heat encircling his shaft. He gasped with pleasure, almost overwhelmed. He could have come the moment he entered her. On his knees he grabbed her thighs to spread her further then slammed himself home.  
  
“Ah, Fuck... _Buffy_!” Her guttural cry soon matched his own.  
  
He crooked her leg over his shoulder; hanging on to the other thigh he sunk himself to the hilt. This was not going to last long so he’d better make it count. He’d worked himself into a frenzy with all that foreplay.  
  
One thing Spike had never counted on in all the time he’d been chasing the Slayer: how much she would turn him on. She’d flipped him like a switch, now he was live, electrified. Everything he did to make her want him only made him want her more. Buffy drove him insane with lust and desire. He was consumed by her - driven to distraction. How many times had he come alone dreaming of her – her face, her body, her scent?  
  
Making love to her had only made it worse, ‘cause now he didn’t have to dream. He fucking KNEW how good it was. Knew what was right in front of him, just out of his reach. It was agony, interspersed with moments of blinding ecstasy – when she deigned to let him near her, to touch her, to love her. Then she’d turn on him in a single motion and take it all away - call him an animal, shame him. Punishing him with her words hurt so much more than her thrashing him ever did. She despised him, used him – he knew it. And it affected his love for her NOT AT ALL. This was all he had, these moments when she would let him have just a little piece of her. If it was only her body and not her heart, he consoled himself that at least he had given her pleasure. She had taken something from him even if it was not his love.  
  
One day she would though, he was sure of it. One day she would return to him all he had given her and more. He knew what she was capable of. He knew her HEART. But for now he’d take what he could get. Not that he was lyin’ down and taking much these days.  
Every time they shagged she lost a little more control. And now, look who’s in charge, eh? He pounded her hard, rocking his head against her g-spot, and was rewarded with a sharp cry of gratification.  
  
_What’d I tell you?_  
  
Spike set himself to the task at hand. Angling his thrusts to slide along the roof of her pussy, nailing her spongy little g-spot every time. Buffy was panting deliciously. He threw her legs wide and crooked them over his arms. Planting himself firmly with his palms he slammed into her raised pelvis. She gave a feral shout of joy.  
  
“Told you…I’d give you…what you needed…Pet.”  
  
He grinned, panting. If there was something better than this in the wide world he’d yet to come across it. Buffy’s head was thrown back; her eyes screwed shut, mouth wide screaming out her pleasure. He hammered deep inside, hitting her at just the right angle.  
  
_Gonna make you come so hard, Baby_  
  
He was determined to outlast her; no way was she leaving his bed unsatisfied. He pressed her back into the sheets, keeping her legs over his arms. This allowed her body to bear more of his weight freeing his hands for better uses. He ran a thumb along her slippery lips, picking up just enough juice to make it wet. She opened her pretty green eyes at his touch and Spike smiled wickedly, raising a saucy eyebrow. He took pure delight in watching those eyes widen immensely when he stroked his slick thumb over her swollen clit.  
  
“Fuuuuu - UUUUCK!”  
  
It was a luscious animal roar that brought him a hairsbreadth from his own climax. He felt her inner walls start to spasm against his cock. Bloody hell, she was going to kill him - Slayer muscles indeed. He worked her clitoris with fervor, feeling her orgasm building all around him. Her pussy clamped down in a strangle hold and Spike knew he couldn’t hold out but a moment more.  
  
“Come for me, Buffy.”  
  
She panted breathlessly, insides shuddering, rippling with sensation.  
  
“NOW.” He ground his thumb down on her sensitive clit.  
  
She came screaming his name. It was a deafening howl that brought on his own orgasm like a thunderbolt. He couldn’t fight the waves crashing over him as he surged into her wet heat, the words he wasn’t allowed to say tumbling in his mind.  
  
_God, Buffy, love you, Buffy, love you so much…_  
  
He thrust into her with an agonized cry, feeling her come again, then again. The sheer force of it threatened to drag him into unconsciousness. There was nothing but _her_ now, her body, her scent, the sound of her pleasure.  
  
_Drowning, I’m drowning again…_  
  
And he knew he was lost in that moment. Lost the game, lost the plot, lost his very self.  
There was nothing but Buffy, and he knew he would do anything and everything for her from now on. Whatever small pride he’d had left was overwhelmed and out voted by this mad, irrational devotion. Damn her, she’d gotten him AGAIN. Tried to teach her a lesson, break that iron will of hers a little. But as usual he was left wanting, needing, more of her. Everything he did to try to win her only made him more fully her own. Maybe she was right – he WAS in love with pain. The exquisite, unbearable pain of loving her. He was addicted to it, as he was to everything about her. The fucking, the fighting, the evil tenderness she brought out in him. He was absolutely damned, condemned by her to a hell worse than anything God could imagine for him. But he couldn’t stop, didn’t know if he _would_ stop if he could.  
  
_I bloody well love you, Summers. And if it damns me forever than so be it. I’d sell my soul all over again to hear you say my name like that just **once** more…_  
  
Spike made his peace with Fate. If this was his lot, so be it. At least he had her. What little she gave him was the best he’d ever had. Each small dollop of love or affection was like sunshine down from Heaven. Christ knows what he’d do if she ever really loved him.  
  
_Probably burn up from the inside out, I expect._  
  
One day she would be the death of him, he knew. But until then, why not feast and make merry, eh? Carpe Diem and all that shite. He grinned wolfishly.  
  
_Let’s see how fast I can make you come again, Pet._  
  
And he set himself to drowning again.  
  
  
The pleasure was too much for Buffy; it was all too intense, too real. He’d made her beg. She had surrendered herself so easily. It terrified her. But it was so, so good she wanted to weep too. She came here to feel something, didn’t she? And what did Mom always say? _“Careful what you wish for, Buffy. You just might get it.”_ Oh yeah – she was getting it all right. She just wasn’t prepared for her own reaction. But then again she was NEVER prepared for Spike. He was…what was that word Willow used? Unquantifiable. If she thought he’d do one thing, he did something unexpectedly else. Tell him it was night out, he’d insist it was day, then prove it. She could never get a bead on him. Hell, the last thing in the world she’d expected Spike to do was fall in love with her. I mean it was absurd - a vampire in love with a Slayer…um, except for that whole Angel thing… But he had a soul, and Spike didn’t and what business did he have loving her anyway? Making her feel all guilty and crazy and longy for him, and she’d never asked him for any of it. And hey…what was he doing?  
  
_I can’t believe he’s still hard_  
  
But there he was _(after all that!?)_ Like the damn Energizer bunny - takes a licking and keeps on ticking…or was that the luggage guys? Her first impulse was to push him off, make him stop. She was already feeling too much and this whole thing was just WAY out of control. And it was for her to say, right? It was her thing, and her decision…only it never really worked out that way. He faked right and then went left and now he was INSIDE. Somehow he always got past her defenses. When no one else could, when Willow, Xander, Giles, Mom and even Dawn were all on the outside of her barricades and comfortably far away - there was Spike, weaseling his way under the walls.  
  
He was always there like a…like a…wart or a mole or something. Yes, a big, ugly mole that only got bigger and uglier every year until you had to get the damned thing removed. Only she couldn’t get him removed and…and… really he wasn’t like that at all. He wasn’t ugly; he was making a beautiful face right now in fact, smiling down at her like an angel. And why did he have to be so gorgeous and irresistible anyway? Making everything so crazily complicated, as if it wasn’t enough that he could just TOUCH her anywhere at anytime and she would turn into a puddle. Knees getting jello-y and skin heating up. Like that didn’t suck, him just laying his hand casually on her shoulder saying “The bad guys are this way, Pet” and she’d go all floopy. He interfered with her work, and her life, and just everything! And how was she supposed to date a real guy again after this exactly? Like what living guy could keep his dick hard that long, or make her feel like he did, or touch her and make her go all floopy, and okay, so she liked it.  
  
_Never, ever tell him that._  
  
Her mind warned. Like she ever would ‘cause that would go over well. He would never, ever, ever leave her alone after that. Not that she wanted him to –  
  
_Oh! How does he make me do that?! I don’t want that, not that way. I’M supposed to be in control and using him as my gigolo or whatever._  
  
Like that movie she watched with Mom, when Richard Gere was all young and hot.  
  
_Yes, Spike is my gigolo, only I don’t even ever have to pay him – he just comes to me whenever I want. And helps me whenever I want. And takes care of Dawn, even when I wasn’t here to see…_  
  
But he’s evil right? Undead and soulless and evil. And if it wasn’t for that chip in his head he’d be out killing right now…right? RIGHT?! Except, except… maybe he wouldn’t. And if he didn’t have any soul at all how did he love her? Because he did, didn’t he?  
  
_Didn’t he, Buffy?_  
  
Her brain waited patiently for her to catch up. For this new information to sink in.  
  
_Oh shit. He does! He really does._  
  
And here he was ever so gently attending to her, kissing her stomach, loving her body. Showing her his feelings in actions instead of words. Because it was the only way she’d let him. Whatever bravado he put on, whatever arrogance and “ Hey, I’m the Big Bad in control here ” show he started out with – it always ended in this. Even that night – THE night, when they’d brought the house down. He had ended up telling her how much he loved her, and …* making love to her.*  
  
_No, don’t deny it._  
  
Okay yes, making love to her. He had touched her with reverence; he had held her with tenderness. Spike had loved her, he had said it and shown it that night in the dark. Right up until morning, when she had rejected him, hit him and run away. So now he wouldn’t say it – because he was afraid of losing her. Afraid that she would take it all away. That she would leave him. Buffy felt her heart contract, she knew THAT pain intimately. She knew exactly what it was like to be abandoned. ‘Cause how many times had it happened to her? How many had walked away leaving her shattered and crying? And here she was doing it to him over and over and over…  
  
_God I am SUCH a bitch!_  
  
She had denied him and hurt him, kicked him and used him. But he was still here. He was either very brave or very stupid. She smiled – that was Spike to a T actually: Brave AND stupid, in pretty much every way.  
  
_Brave little toaster_  
  
She felt a swell of affection for him, and her heart opened up, just the tiniest bit. Would it be so bad? Maybe, not to love him (Lord knows she wasn’t ready for that), but to let him love her? Spike was gently tracing the curve of her hip with his tongue, making her sigh with pleasure. He was beautiful. And damn talented – no one had ever even come close to making her feel this way.  
  
_(Not even Angel)_  
  
Not that she was admitting it to anyone, or even herself really. And he had stayed with Drusilla for over a century, the man could commit. Not a big chance of him leaving her… Hmmm…could she do it? Could she simply allow him to love her, and MAYBE keep herself open to the faint possibility that she could love him? He looked up at her from his place between her thighs, his devotion to her raw on his face. Buffy studied him carefully, for once actually _seeing_ him – his passion, his suffering, his love. In that moment she thought that maybe, just maybe she could. Then his long, seeking tongue found the center of heat it was looking for.  
  
He smiled at her wickedly and bent to his work and Buffy ceased to think anything at all …


End file.
